Candle in the Dark
by Dante Reves
Summary: The unthinkable happens to Alexandria Blane, and Richard must be there to help pick up the pieces


I own nothing save for the unknown characters.

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><p>Sitting in the courtroom, I knew that it wouldn't end well. I was well into my second trimester (week 22, month 6 to be exact) and far beyond the point of showing, and my rapist would be going free because I was wild two years ago and had acquired a record with the police.<br>Even with Richard sitting behind me, I could not be any more aware of the jury's faces as my police record of drugs and petty theft was read to them.

At fifteen, I had spiraled out of control because my foster parents had been killed in a car accident. Now, at seventeen, I had grown up for more than any teenager should have, and I was sitting there with the child of my rapist in my womb, and they were going to tell me that I had wanted it. He couldn't even be charged with statutory rape because I was emancipated.

Richard, my childhood friend and crush, was taking time off from saving the world to sit with me and support me in my time of need. Calling him a "world-saver" isn't exaggerating—believe it or not—because his alter-ego is Robin, leader of the Teen Titans. Looking over at my rapist, I found him smiling at me like we were long-lost friends, and it made me sicker than any bout of morning sickness ever could.

"In the case of Blane versus Whitman, rape in the first degree, the jury rules…" In that moment, my heart stopped. Looking into the face of juror number nine, I knew. And my world shattered. "Not guilty."

The courtroom exploded into sound, but I didn't hear any of it. In the chaos, I realized that some small part of me was holding onto the hope that they would see what was right before them and sentence him to life in prison.

When my attorney attempted to rouse me, Richard stopped him and jumped over the partition separating the audience from the parties involved. "Let's go home, Alex," he said, his hands on my shoulders. His touch was the only one I found myself able to tolerate in the past six months, and I didn't shy away from him.

"Miss Blane, I am truly sorry." John, my attorney who worked for the DA's office looked like we truly meant it. Seeing this, I gave him a watered down smile before letting Richard lead me out to the courthouse steps where we were mauled by the press.

"Is it true? Was it consensual?" one reporter asked.

As I was about to answer, James Whitman walked over. "Hey, honey, join me for dinner tonight at my place?" my rapist asked, sending the press into a frenzy.

"I suggest that you leave, Mr. Whitman," Richard said leading me away to the sound of the man's laughter.

Such evil…I'm surprised that the jury didn't see it in him. If they had, he would be getting fitted with his orange jumpsuit and not talking jovially with the press. Did he know? Did he know that he had just ruined the childhood of a teenage girl? From now on, I thought, I would look back on my childhood, and all I would see was the face of the man who ripped it away from me.

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><p>Richard and I got back to Wayne Manor to find that the other members of the Titans as well as Titans East were waiting for us. Apparently, they had flown in when word of the trial had reached them.<p>

"So, Dick, when do we start plotting the first flawless murder of history?" Roy Harper (a.k.a. Speedy) said as we walked in the door. From their faces I could tell that all of them were thinking along the same bloody lines.

"We don't," I said quietly grabbing the attention of everyone in the room.

"On my planet, such a crime is punishable by death," Kori—Starfire—said, eyes literally blazing.

"Where do you think they will look first when he goes missing?" I asked.

"We could send him to a different dimension. A dimension with flesh-eating monsters," Raven said menacingly. Garfield—Beast Boy—shivered as he agreed.

"They wouldn't be able to find the body, and without a body, there would be no crime," Karen—Bumble Bee—said in contemplation.

"Enough!" Ten pairs of eyes focused on my tear streaked face. "I am not a killer, and I will not become a killer because of James Whitman!" I said furiously. "I am going to have a life with the only good thing that came out of this and forget his existence completely!" I said placing a hand on my stomach. At that moment, the last six months of sleepless nights decided to rear their ugly heads and I deflated, letting the exhaustion show in my posture. "I don't want to be haunted by this poor excuse for a man for the rest of my life. I _will_ move on, and he can kiss my sizeable dust trail. Nothing is going to change my mind." With that, I walked upstairs with Richard's help, and went to bed to sleep for the first time in so long.

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><p>Even now, as I watch Richard with our child—born of that dark night—I still hold onto my resolve. This darling girl will know nothing of her biological father, who was convicted of raping another girl only last month and sentenced to death in the grand state of Texas.<p>

Richard had been there for the birth of little Annabelle, and he proposed to me on the day she turned one month old. She is now nearly a year, and I am now Alexandria Blane-Grayson. My darning Annabelle will grow up with a loving mother and an adoring father to wrap around her pinky finger, and maybe even a sibling or two.

As for the Titans, they regularly raid our house—mansion really. Richard bought this home for Annabelle and me after he proposed. Living in the hills of Los Angeles isn't so bad most days. All ten Titans along with Annabelle and I make quite the sight when we all go out to eat in one of the posh restaurants surrounding the hills. I personally am a firm believer that the only reason that they don't kick all of us rowdy young adults and teenagers out is because Richard and Roy tend to tip extravagantly.

All in all, life is turning out to be a winding road of ups and downs, the only constant being my love, Richard, and, now, Annabelle.

As Richard climbs back into bed after putting our now dozing child in her crib, I smile and he pulls me close, and I know, not for the first time since James Whitman, that everything will be alright.

The End...


End file.
